


Oh, It's Gonna Be Hot

by TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard



Category: Ghost9 (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Opposites Attract, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard/pseuds/TheSwingbyJeanHonoreFragonard
Summary: Dongjun is a webnovel author who has just got his big break by selling out.Shin is an up and coming actor who got cast as the lead in the drama adaptation.One shouldn't be what the other is looking for at all in a partner but love is kinda mysterious like that.
Relationships: Hwang Dongjun/Kim Suhyun | Shin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Slice Of Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by the Thai drama Lovely Writer.

“I knew this day would come, Dongjun,” said Junhyung as he strolled up to their table in the coffee shop. It was almost too warm outside for it, but Junhyung still wore his stylish, brown trench coat with the oversize buttons. He wore it over a sharp white button down shirt and deep blue jeans, his hair styled upwards and away from his handsome face. He was good-looking, like a model, but he was also very good at his job. He could have one of Dongjun’s rough drafts edited within a day, the margins crammed full of comments and suggestions, keeping Dongjun on his toes throughout revisions.

In comparison, Dongjun felt a little frumpy in his holey jeans and faded hoodie but, then again, Junhyung hadn’t exactly given Dongjun a warning when he showed up at his apartment, ready to take him out for brunch even though it was long past lunchtime.

Junhyung sat his own cup down and then slid Dongjun’s drink across the table towards him before settling in his chair. He took a sip and loudly sighed as it hit the spot. “I knew we’d make it if we stuck together.”

Dongjun let out a quiet snort as he slowly chewed on a bite of his cake. “ _ Did _ you?” 

Junhyung continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I’ve been saying since the start that you’ve got the talent. You’ve got that jenny say kwak.”

_ What? _ “Wha--”

“You’ve got that  _ spark _ .” Junhyung fluttered his fingers a little to demonstrate. “You’ve got a gift, man. Your storytelling ability is what got you here. We’re about to be in with the big boys now.”

Dongjun scooped up more cake with his fork and shoveled it in his mouth. Banana cream. His favorite. At least Junhyung always remembered. “I thought you said we were already in with the big boys?”

“Domestically, perhaps,” Junhyung said. Then he swiftly amended his answer. “Regionally. Strictly in the Seoul metropolitan area.”

Dongjun fixed him with a look.

“Hey, there will never be anyone else on Priest’s level of fame but you’ll probably be somewhat close eventually.”

“Somewhat,” Dongjun repeated.

“We’re  _ getting there _ .”

“Eventually.”

“Everyone starts somewhere. And you’re well on your way to the top.”

Dongjun wasn’t used to this. Not from Junhyung. He was used to getting nitpicked about his overuse of adjectives and told to tone it down with his comma splicing. He was used to being told to keep the angst to a minimum and to maybe, just maybe, just this once, not kill off the hero in the end. He was used to being told to skimp on world building if it meant getting to the meat of the plot faster. In other words, Dongjun didn’t know how to handle compliments. Not from Junhyung. “It’s just a drama.”

Junhyung gasped. “ _ Just _ a drama? This is big for us. Sure, we’re not with one of the huge cable networks with a crazy huge budget but it’s still big for us!”

Dongjun drummed his fingers into the surface of the table out of nervousness. Honestly, it still didn’t feel real. It hadn’t even been a month since he’d uploaded the last chapter of his latest webnovel and it was  _ already _ getting picked up by some drama production company? Unreal. But he’d already seen the deluge of work documents, contracts, casting information and preliminary scripts in his email inbox over the last few weeks. It was real and it was happening whether he was prepared or not.

Junhyung took a noisy sip of his expensive iced tea with about four or five flavors in the name before sitting the cup back down on the table. “Gay web dramas are all the rage these days and we’ve got to hop on the trend before the wave dies down. You’ve got the email, right? First day of production is Monday and they want you to be at the script read.”

Dongjun just sat there, slowly and calmly processing. Several years ago, he’d dreamed of one of his novels being turned into a show or a movie. That’s why he wrote so much. He’d put his heart and soul into sweeping, epic fantasy stories or dark and brooding sci-fi tales. He had even dabbled in horror stuff and detective novels, constantly expanding his creative horizons. Writing could take a lot out of you, though. He’d lost days of sleep while doing revisions and edit passes. He’d worried himself sick brainstorming new ideas and typing out ‘warm-up’ chapters. One time, he’d written about 40,000 words over the course of a month only to wake up one day hating everything and he’d deleted it all in a fit of sleep-deprived rage. Writing was tough and oftentimes lonely, but he did it. He did it because he enjoyed it. Loved it, even. Despite how hard it could be. 

So having his work get all of this attention after all this time was a dream come true but all he wanted to ask was  _ Why that one?  _ Why that one and not  _ any _ of the others? Why the silly romance one he’d slapped together pretty much as a joke? He’d tried so much harder on the others. He put so much more thought into the others.

But saying that out loud would make him seem ungrateful, wouldn’t it?

Dongjun realized that Junhyung had been talking to him this whole time. He brought his attention back to the present moment.

“--want you on set in a bit of a supervisory role during shooting. Nothing major. Nothing with too much power or say, unfortunately, but that’s kind of the job description of a consultant. Are you down?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dongjun agreed. He should have probably put up more of a fight.

“This is actually a rare opportunity,” Junhyung exclaimed. “Most production companies don’t want the original creators getting too involved in the development process. It can get messy when the execs and the authors clash over creative differences. That kind of thing can bring a production to a halt.” He paused to take several swigs off his tea. His eyes temporarily wandered towards the view outside the window before he met Dongjun’s gaze once more. “I plead for your case, though, and told the heads of the production team that you’re extremely low-key. Like, so low-key they’ll forget you’re in the room. That’s why the director wants you on set. Maybe not making final decisions but at least keeping things from going totally off the rails.”

“I see.” Although, honestly, Dongjun didn’t even want to be  _ that _ involved. He had sort of already emotionally divorced himself from that work and whatever would spring from it. He wouldn’t mind seeing the drama absolutely tank. It was his least favorite work, the farthest from his usual style, but that was the one that became a hit. That was the one that climbed up the popularity charts and got so much attention on Twitter. He knew for a fact that he’d be living in the shadow of that novel’s viral popularity no matter what else he wrote.

Junhyung said, “I would have gotten you involved in the production earlier. Maybe starting way back with casting… but when you’re working on a shoestring budget, things are-- Well, I wouldn’t say  _ rushed _ but things move fast.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t have known what to look for in casting.” Dongjun shoved another forkful of cake in his mouth. “I’m not picky enough to make choices like that.”

“It’s fine. We’re working with a bunch of rookies, which is fine. The lead will be played by Shin. He confirmed his participation just this morning.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Well, this is still a golden opportunity. Just show up on set like every other day of production, get photographed with the cast and crew, do some basic interactions on social media. The book fans will be a lot more confident if they know the drama’s got your seal of approval.”

But did it actually have his approval? Dongjun said, “That sounds like a lot more work than you think it is.”

“I’ve gotten you through the doors.” Junhyung slurped more of his tea, already nearly finished with it. “I’m positive the offers and opportunities will start rolling in after this.”

Dongjun prompted, “But?”

Junhyung waved a hand. “No buts!” 

Dongjun narrowed his eyes, all the more wary. Now he was positive something was up. Junhyung never invited him out for tea on a Friday afternoon  _ just because _ . Especially to some super-popular downtown place like this when they had cheaper alternatives in their own neighborhood. Dongjun had a feeling he was about to be asked some kind of favor. Something terribly inconvenient. Why else would his hardass, penny-pinching editor offer to pay if he had no ulterior motives? Dongjun took a tentative, suspicious sip of his tea. The beverage was ice-cold and refreshing on a warm day like this but if it was poisoned, the taste blended in well.

His editor was still trying to hard sell. “We’ve been working together for like a year and a half now, haven’t we,” Junhyung asked rhetorically. “We’ve been on a roll.”

“But?” Dongjun led the way.

Junhyung, again, didn’t take the bait. “It was only a matter of time before we struck gold. I knew your time would come.”

“What are you getting at,” Dongjun impatiently asked.

Junhyung used his fork to scoop a chunk of cake up into his mouth. Though the forkful was more whipped cream than chocolate. 

He must not have had any other meetings today if he was eating sweets, considering the way his stomach was set up. Sadly, that’s just how well Dongjun knew him. 

Junhyung said, “Dongjun, I love you. Platonically. We’ve been besties since high school. You’re like a little brother to me.”

“Little,” Dongjun repeated. “How am I little?” That shouldn’t have even been the part of Junhyung’s statement that bothered him. Calling them ‘besties’ was a stretch and even if they  _ had _ been that close of friends back then, it had been several years since they’d graduated and they hadn’t been in contact much at all during the gap. Dongjun meekly added, “I’m older than you.” 

“Anyways,” Junhyung spoke up quickly. “Didn’t I tell you that if you just listened to me, you’d go far? And look at you going far. I’m glad I took a chance on your vision.” 

Oh, he was buttering Dongjun up hard and not even being subtle about it. What did he  _ want _ ? Dongjun kinda wished he’d just come right out and ask instead of firing another barrage of compliments at him. Though, perhaps now, Junhyung was complimenting himself more than he was praising Dongjun. Sarcastically, he said, “You’re so good at your job, Junhyung.”

His friend took him seriously, however. “Right? I’ve been working my ass off. My boss is finally taking me seriously and might let me start handling additional clients. Have you seen the new sales numbers? Your next royalty check is gonna be insane.” 

Junhyung said, “We gotta strike while the iron’s hot, if you ask me. Your last book did extremely well. I strongly suggest you start work on a sequel.”

Ahh _ there _ it was. The big favor. 

Dongjun mumbled, “Already? I just finished the other one.”

“Now is the time to start on the next one,” Junhyung urged him. “Idle hands are the devil’s playthings.” He was using that tone of voice where it sounded like he was suggesting but he was most certainly  _ ordering _ . “The guys up top know a gold mine when they see it. Write the sequel now and we can aim to publish it around the same time the drama finishes airing. Think of all the cross-promo. We’ll increase numbers for the book sales  _ and _ the drama streams. It’s a win-win.”

Dongjun couldn’t really argue with that kind of capitalist logic but he hated that he would have to write a sequel to a story he was already sick of. “I was actually thinking of starting something entirely different. I’ve been wanting to work on something with some dystopian vibes.”

“Ice it,” Junhyung said curtly. “Dystopian’s been out of style for a few years. It’s especially unpopular now when that shit’s getting too much like real life.”

“Okay,” Dongjun sighed. “I have an idea for something with a cyberpunk feel.”

Junhyung chewed on his straw, making the plastic squeak. “Put it aside for later.” 

“Steampunk, then?”

“Nah.”

Dongjun made another weak attempt. “A historical martial arts action novel.”

“We need the sequel first,” Junhyung insisted.

“But--”

“Nothing’s wrong with a little  _ romance _ , Dongjun.”

“But I’m not even good at it!”

“Well, learn.”

Dongjun gave up. Too polite to throw down his fork and make a proper fuss, he carefully placed the utensil down on his plate. “Fine.”

Junhyung grinned at him. “Great. I’ll email you the new contract. We’ve got a floating deadline of July. The sooner I’ve got a rough draft to work with, the better.”

“July doesn’t give me much time,” Dongjun complained. It was already nearly April.

“You’ll be fine. Just do what you did again but better and I’m pretty sure we’ll double our sales.”

Because everything was about money. Everything was about numbers. Everything was about popularity rankings and audience demographics and analytics and trend-surfing and other things Dongjun never cared too much about. With a sigh, Dongjun leaned over the table, slurped his straw into his mouth and drank his tea. The ice was melting already, watering it down, but it still had a strong, sharp taste to it. He wasn’t even sure what kind of tea this was. It definitely wasn’t what he’d asked Junhyung to get him.

“It’ll come with a pay raise,” Junhyung sweetened the deal. “And a higher percentage off of sales. Had some interesting meetings this morning. We’ve been discussing artist collaborations, interviews, related merchandise and product sponsorships. You’re one of the original five authors on our platform and now you’re the first to get adapted to the screen. It’s a huge milestone and can bring a lot more attention our way. The company is making moves to  _ invest _ in you.”

But because of  _ that _ story, Dongjun wants to yell.

“To everyone else, it looks like you’re scowling,” said Junhyung, pointing at him, “but I know you. That’s your excited face. That’s your rarin’-to-go face. That’s your face full of ambition. You  _ want _ this.”

Dongjun wasn’t thinking or feeling any of those things at all but this was probably a situation where it would be easier if he just rolled with it. Plus, he had a feeling all of this was set in stone, the decisions already made long before he got invited out for tea, and Junhyung was at least attempting to give him the illusion of choice with this conversation. “I want this,” he mumbled dejectedly around his straw.

Junhyung smiled wide, his mission a success. “Perfect. I’ll send you your updated schedule before the day’s over.”


	2. One In Your Corner

Feeling a bit hung out to dry, Dongjun was in quite the mopey mood as he left the coffee shop and made his way back to his apartment building. A mood that slowly soured even further as the cloudy sky darkened over and a freezing rain began to pour. Caught out and defenseless, he climbed the stairs to his floor absolutely drenched, shoes squelching on the cement and leaving little puddles everywhere he went. But at least he didn’t have his laptop or anything like that with him. 

Still, he felt entirely out of sorts, as if the whole afternoon had happened to someone else and not him.

But because his mind was always looking for fuel he could turn into stories, even this was something he managed to turn around. “The main character gets caught out in a rainstorm,” he muttered, “but then the love interest shows up with an umbrella, and…” He stopped himself. He’d watched such a trope play out on his television screen dozens of times before. He had to find a way to mix it up. “The love interest offers the umbrella but then takes it back right after. But isn’t that kind of a jerk move?”

He tried to think of a way to spin it. A case of mistaken identity? Some old lady who needed the umbrella more urgently? But none of those ideas seemed fun.

Dongjun mulled the thought over in his head as he climbed the stairs, nodding in greeting to the few neighbors he saw who were also out in such bad weather. 

He watched as water sluiced off the roof and tumbled to the parking lot below, pinging off roofs. He heard the rumbles of thunder and the low roar of run-off in the gutters. Rainy weather was perfect for writing. He’d get comfortable and start on the sequel as soon as he could.

But, first, how did he  _ start _ the story?

“Okay,” he continued, “what if the protagonist is the one with the umbrella and the potential love interest is the one caught out in the rain? Does he offer the umbrella? Or does he keep walking by?” But now the whole umbrella thing no longer sounded at all exciting. And wasn’t this the sequel? The main pair already knew each other. They were already together. A meet-cute now was kind of too late. And even if he did a brief little prologue, he’d already detailed how the couple met in the first book. “But I do like the idea of starting the sequel in the middle of a storm.” A literal one, with thunder and lightning and wind and flash flood warnings. But maybe it was a metaphorical storm. Like a fight or argument or some external force threatening their relationship.

A disapproving parent? Some arranged fiance? An overseas job opportunity? 

But he’d watched dramas with those plots a dozen times already.

Why did he care so much about avoiding tropes anyway? Filling his story full of silly, overdone tropes just for the hell of it was what had gotten him this popular to begin with.

“Maybe the story takes place in a desert,” he huffed.

At long last, Dongjun reached the ninth floor. He would have taken the elevator instead of the stairs but then he’d have left a mess on the elevator floor and would have felt bad about it. Gosh. Why was he so nice?

“I could hear you squeaking up the hall even when you were still around the corner.”

Dongjun looked up when he heard the familiar voice. Maybe, just maybe, the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “How long have you been waiting,” Dongjun asked the kid sitting on the tile floor in front of his apartment door.

“Uhh… Not long,” Jinwoo said distractedly. Most of his attention was on the video game keeping up a racket on his phone. “Ten minutes maybe?” His high school uniform was still dry, which meant he’d gotten here before the rain hit. He didn’t even have to look up when he asked, “Didn’t take an umbrella?”

Dongjun sighed. “Storm came out of nowhere.”

“It was in the morning forecast,” Jinwoo let him know. He gestured with his elbow towards his brightly-colored backpack where the plastic handle of his umbrella stuck out from between the zippers.

Dongjun sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. His wet hair dripped cold water down his neck and across his forehead and his outfit felt like it weighed a ton, it was so heavily soaked. He would have to change clothes before he did anything else. And start a load of laundry. “Want ramen,” Dongjun asked.

Jinwoo glanced up from his phone screen for a long enough second to make eye contact. “Extra spicy.” His hair seemed to hold a brand new tint of color to it, a bluish-gray, which  _ had _ to go against school regulations. Was he finally hopping feet first into teenage rebellion?

“Remember what happened last time you asked for extra spicy?” Dongjun loved reminding him of this. “If it burns going in, it burns going out.”

“Extra spicy,” Jinwoo repeated. Trying to keep his thumbs on the screen, he scrambled to get to his feet. “But maybe fewer peppers.”

Dongjun stepped up to his apartment door and tapped in the code for the door lock. The machine chirped cheerfully at him and he heard the latch slide open. Jinwoo, however, was the one who yanked on the handle, pushed Dongjun out of his way and rushed inside.

“Bathroom,” he squeaked as he kicked off his shoes.

Jinwoo had moved so quickly that he’d left his backpack sitting outside in the hall. Dongjun hoisted it up. Then he spared the apartment door across the hall a short glance. He wanted to say something--anything--but even when there was no one on the other side of the wood to hear him, he couldn’t speak his mind. Dongjun turned back around, stepped inside and pulled his door shut behind him.

✐

About thirty minutes later, Dongjun was in a fresh and (more importantly)  _ dry _ set of clothes. His tiny little washing machine made quite the ruckus in the utility room, single-handedly drowning out the noise of the falling rain.

He carried his pot of ramen out of the kitchen and sat it on the low table in the living room where Jinwoo absently watched the muted TV. 

Dongjun pulled the lid off of the pot and a billowing cloud of fragrant steam rose into the air.

That got Jinwoo’s attention. He wasted no time using his chopsticks to scoop ramen out of the hotpot and into his bowl. He slurped the hot, steaming noodles down like a starved dog and then swore when the hot broth scorched the roof of his mouth.

“Slow down,” Dongjun attempted.

“It’s best when it’s hot off the stove.” Jinwoo unapologetically slurped down more noodles.

Dongjun hadn’t turned on too many of the apartment’s lights but with the living room curtains drawn back, the stormy gray light of the afternoon sky was more than enough to see by. Even with the rain.

Dongjun sat himself down on one of the floor pillows. “Where’s your mom?” Over the past couple of months, he’d discovered that it was easiest to just come right out and ask.

“Busan, probably,” Jinwoo mumbled, not looking up.

That was all the explanation he seemed willing to give but that was better than the ‘I don’t know’ he usually gave.

Well, now wasn’t the time to dwell on such matters. “I actually have some good news to share,” Dongjun began, lifting his own empty bowl.

“You’re the creative consultant on the drama adaptation?”

Dongjun had been scooping up his noodles but he paused with his chopsticks in the air. “How do you know?”

Jinwoo waggled an elbow in the direction of his phone face down on the table between them. “Saw it on Insta.” 

Ahhh, right. “I see.”

Jinwoo said, “The official drama account announced it this afternoon. A lot of BNFs are excited that you’ll be on set keeping an eye on the production. There’s been a ton of shitty adaptations lately.” He shoveled more noodles into his mouth, whining as the hot temperature stung his tongue. 

Dongjun shook his head and snorted in amusement. The kid would never learn. “Thought you were taking a break from social media.”

“Nah. Only from twitter. The place is a cesspool.”

“Ahh,” Dongjun nodded in total understanding. He had been avoiding his own official account since the deluge of new followers had started. Seeing the numbers climb so rapidly made him feel kind of antsy. That and the influx of mindless noise in his inbox. Dongjun scooped more noodles into his bowl and stirred it with his chopsticks. He should have dumped an egg in. That’s what the pot was missing! “How is the general reaction? To the drama news, I mean.”

“Mostly positive,” said Jinwoo. “The novel’s already popular. More and more drama reviewers have been making vids about the upcoming production so the buzz is getting louder and louder. I think the casting’s spot on.”

“Really? I wouldn’t know.” Dongjun had the information for all of the actors and the cast and crew but he hadn’t gone over anything Junhyung hadn’t directly pointed out to him. He should probably at least learn the names of the director and screenwriter, right? “I just want it to be over with already.” Goodness, he’d have to deal with this for  _ months _ , wouldn’t he? “God, I hate it.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud but Jinwoo heard him anyway. “Why? It’s great!”

Ouch. Dongjun hid the frown on his face by noisily slurping up more noodles. If Jinwoo was just being nice to protect his feelings, that was one thing. But if he genuinely enjoyed that romance novel? Well, Dongjun wasn’t sure which was worse. “I’ve written better.”

“I think it’s one of your best. The pacing was sharp. The character development was realistic. The chemistry between the two male leads was kind of off the charts. I liked it a lot.”

Dongjun stiffened. “It’s probably the only thing of mine you’ve read.”

Jinwoo looked up at him, wide-eyed. He’d been skimping out on his acne treatment if he had this many new pimples. “Are you kidding? I’ve read all of your webnovels. Even the older ones off that older site.”

Dongjun nodded slowly and slurped down more of his noodles. He’d added too much of something to the broth but he couldn’t quite tell what. Soy sauce? Salt? “Don’t exaggerate.” 

“I signed up for a premium account on that app specifically to read your stuff and support you,” said Jinwoo with a mouth full of food. 

He looked so earnest. So genuine. If he was such a big fan, couldn’t he see that almost all of Dongjun’s other works deserved a drama? Maybe not the spaceship one with the aliens. And maybe not the one with the immortal princess. Those  _ needed _ a huge budget. But what about the one with the lawyer who saw ghosts? Or the edgy one about the skater dudes? Or the one with the nine-tailed fox who worked at a fast food restaurant? Why couldn’t it have been any of  _ those _ that had gotten popular overnight?

Dongjun swallowed out of nervousness, only to forget he had food in his mouth. It went down the wrong pipe. He coughed hard. The coughed again, slapped a hand on his chest and stood up so he could get the pitcher of water out of the fridge.

Jinwoo laughed at him. “Embarrassed,” he shouted at Dongjun’s retreating back. “You shouldn’t be. Your stuff’s good. You deserve this.”

But why the silly teen romance? He was getting sick of asking that.

Dongjun nudged the fridge door shut with his hip and carried the pitcher and a pair of clean mugs into the living room. “Writing sequels is hard,” he announced. “I don’t know what to do with it. I didn’t even write it with a sequel in mind!” It had already been difficult finishing the original while watching it climb up the popularity rankings on the webnovel app and get dozens of new comments a day. He didn’t function too well under that kind of mounting pressure and it would be worse with the sequel when all of the new drama fans started rolling in. He poured himself a mug of water and quietly wished it was soju. “What if it sucks?”

Holding a hand in front of his mouth as he chewed, Jinwoo said, “It’s not going to suck.”

Dongjun was thinking about something entirely different now. “They want me on set Monday morning. I won’t be able to drop you off at school.”

“I’ll just ride with you there,” Jinwoo shot back. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not asking you to let me skip. The production company is on the other side of downtown. It’s, like, within walking distance of the school. Literally closer than where’d be if I took the subway.” He hit Dongjun with those big, puppy eyes and a poked-out bottom lip. “I swear I’ll be in class on time.”

Dongjun caved. “Fine. Just don’t do anything embarrassing like ask people for their autographs.”

“Don’t worry,” Jinwoo reassured him. “I’ll make sure you won’t see me do that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/TheSwingbyJHF)


End file.
